


Truce

by silvertrails



Series: Tirion Arc [7]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 13:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17407754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Finarfin manages to make his brothers speak to each other.





	Truce

**Truce  
By CC  
February, 2007**

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

The story is set in Tirion, YT 1281. This should be read after “Music & Hounds”. 

Thank you to Alex for the beta job! ^__^

* * *

The festival at Alqualondë was coming to an end. Blue and green lights that reflected the golden light of Laurëlin had been hung from the pillars at the quay, and the swan boats, newly polished after the boat race, made a lovely sight. Arafinwë stood between his brothers, looking at the sea and wondering how long the fragile truce between Fëanaro and Nolofinwë would last. 

Fëanaro had only arrived in the city after the archery contest, which had been a good thing as King Olwë’s older son, Olwien, had won it. Arafinwë didn’t want to think what would have happened if Fëanaro had participated in the contest and lost to Olwien. Nolofinwë himself had not been at all happy with his second place. 

//And I made it third place in the boat race. I hope nobody tells that to Fëanaro...//

It had been an honorable third place, considering the other participants had been boating since they had been small elflings, but Arafinwë doubted Fëanaro would have seen things that way. At least Nelyafinwë had made it to the horse race, and won it, leaving the others, Findekano among them, far behind. Makalaurë had not participated in any contest, but he’d sung with the Teleri chorus and his voice had been the most beautiful of all. 

It had been a good day, and when Eärwen had said so, Arafinwë had said that yes, that he felt that everything had gone off splendidly and according to plan. Even if he couldn’t have planned Fëanaro’s arrival, Arafinwë had planned to make his stubborn brothers talk to each other again, and it had worked, sort of...

“So you allowed those Teleri boatmen to win,” Fëanaro said, eyes fixed on the swan boats. Arafinwë winced. Who had told that to his half-brother? 

“He did not allow them to win,” Nolofinwë intervened, contained anger in his eyes as he looked at Fëanaro. “The three boats arrived at the goal almost at the same time.”

“So he could have won,” Fëanaro retorted, not even glancing to Nolofinwë. 

“Why do you always...?”

“Peace,” Arafinwë said, raising his hands. “I am here, if you two have not realized. I did my best, Fëanaro. Teleri start boating as soon as they can stand firmly on their feet.”

Fëanaro nodded briskly, still looking unconvinced. Arafinwë was hoping Fëanaro did not make any derisive comment about their Vanyar blood. He would hate to argue with his older brother. 

“Did you win the archery contest at least?” Fëanaro asked Nolofinwë.

“Olwien won it,” Nolofinwë said darkly. “If you had been here, you might have won the contest. Or maybe not...”

Arafinwë sighed inwardly while his brothers scowled at each other. These two were so similar that sometimes Arafinwë wondered if he was the one with a different mother. Why couldn’t they try to communicate? There were other things to speak about, like their sons or their trades! 

“I would have won and shown these... Teleri that Noldor are better,” Fëanaro said. “I should have known you two...”

Nolofinwë’s eyes widened, but it was Arafinwë who interrupted his half-brother’s tirade. “That’s enough, Fëanaro. You will take back that veiled insult to my kin and my wife. I will not have you say anything against them, for they have welcomed you and your family in their lands. We are Noldor, the three of us, but our strength comes not from isolation but from our need for knowledge. Closing yourself to other ways would be folly if what you seek is knowledge.”

Anger flashed in Fëanaro’s eyes, and for a moment Arafinwë believed his half-brother would finally explode, but something between pride and disbelief was slowly showing in his older brother’s eyes.

“I would never speak ill of your wife, or your kin,” Fëanaro said. “Eärwen is part of our family, and that means she is a Noldor now. If you are going to spend time with Teleri, learn their secrets and their skill. Make Father proud and win first place next time.”

Before Arafinwë had a chance to say anything, Fëanaro was gone, leaving them to try to understand the puzzle their half-brother was. Nolofinwë looked pale, and more sad than angry. 

“Does he think that is an apology?” Nolofinwë said after a while.

Arafinwë nodded silently. 

“He still implied that Noldor were better than Teleri,” Nolofinwë said, “and than Vanyar, even if he did not say it out loud.”

“And apparently we are lucky, because we have been taken into the right family,” Arafinwë said quietly. “I thought he had understood, but I was wrong. It’s almost funny...” 

“Who does Fëanaro think he is?” Nolofinwë snapped. “We are children of Finwë too, no matter if he approves or not! That proud, self-conceited, arrogant... What are you smiling about, Arafinwë?”

“You two are so similar...”

“What?”

“You are not self-conceited, brother. Self-righteous might be the right word for you, but then Fëanaro is that too. And about being arrogant...”

“If this is your idea of a joke, it is not funny, Arafinwë.”

“Sorry,” Arafinwë managed, still unable to keep a straight face. “It was so obvious that Fëanaro wanted to make his peace with you, but didn’t know how. And you... you miss him so much that you’d hit him if that made him stay.”

Nolofinwë sighed. “I didn’t believe he would come today. Even when Nerdanel told Anairë that he had left on that trip earlier than planned, though we know Fëanaro had not planned that trip at all. He is obsessed with his rights as heir; he seems unable to think about anything else.”

Arafinwë nodded. “He is obsessed with language too, and Valar forbid I speak about that with him. I also worry for Fëanaro, you know? We have never been that close, but I feel the change in him. There is a darkness that seems to be invading him, and even though the harsh brother we know surfaces sometimes, this darkness seems to be winning him over.”

“But how can there be darkness in the Blessed Lands?” Nolofinwë said softly. “How can he love us and hate us at the same time?”

“He doesn’t hate us,” Arafinwë said. “He loves you, and he might feel something for the rest of us. We are his siblings, after all, even if he would see enemies in us. He is losing himself to his obsessions.”

“We must find a way to bring him back then!” Nolofinwë’s voice was thick with frustration. “And as much as I hate to admit it, you are right, I miss him.”

“Then go back to his house and don’t let him slip further away.” 

“That is easier said than done,” Nolofinwë said. “Laurëlin’s light is waning. Let us go back, brother.”

Arafinwë nodded and they started the way back to the main square. The tables had been taken away, though blue lamps hanging from low branches remained. Most of the Noldor and Vanyar had already started the way home, and the few Teleri around looked tired and happy. 

It was a surprise to find Fëanaro there, but Arafinwë grabbed Nolofinwë’s arm when it seemed his brother was about to leave for King Olwë’s castle. There was enough time to collect their wives and children, but this was the time to make this reunion worthwhile, so Arafinwë ignored Nolofinwë’s exasperated huff and waited for Fëanaro to approach them. 

“I will finish work early tomorrow,” Fëanaro told Nolofinwë. “Come to my house after the second mingling of the lights. You too, Arafinwë. It’s time you start tasting good wine.”

“We will be there, brother,” Arafinwë said when it was obvious Nolofinwë was not going to do anything but nod and look confused. Fëanaro glanced at Nolofinwë briefly and then patted his shoulder, before turning around and heading for the castle. Eärwen was coming out with Nerdanel and Anairë, and Makalaurë was carrying a sleeping Tyelkormo. Findekano and Nelyafinwë came out the last, and together they started the way back to Tirion.


End file.
